


Tying Loose Ends

by Emilia



Series: The Wrath of Sithis [7]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Betrayal, F/M, Family Feels, Friends to Lovers, Implied Relationships, Insanity, Male-Female Friendship, Sad Ending, Sad and Happy, Series Finale, With A Twist
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-03-13 17:49:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3390647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emilia/pseuds/Emilia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a small, peaceful period for the Dark Brotherhood, they are struggling with contracts when once again Amaund Motierre asks for one last contract they are in no position to refuse to. This contract sets the Listener and her faithful on a small journey to Cyrodiil where they learn just a little more about each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A New Destiny

**Author's Note:**

> Take this first chapter as my way of apologizing for slacking on the series!~ I plan on writing more, I swear, just as soon as I resolve this little sickness that begot me. I know this starting chapter isn't much, but think of it as a start to a beautiful beginning.
> 
>  
> 
> Also, before I forget, expect many references to past parts of this series. Hehe.

There was a rapping upon the old wooden door, followed by the deep, smooth voice of Nazir, "Listener? Are you awake yet? It's almost noon."

A bundle of messy, raven-colored hair poked out from the bed, followed by the sound of over-dramatic groaning rang out to acknowledge Nazir's words and presence. Hazel eyes slowly began to open by fractions, trying to receive a bearing on her location before accidentally closing them once more and beginning to doze off.

There was another rapping on the door, this time much louder and harder than before. This managed to get the Breton woman to sit up straight and call out, "Yes?"

"Still me, Listener," an annoyed Nazir replied, "If I were to open this door, am I going to see you still in bed?"

Carciniea let out a fake snort, "What? Me? Of course not! Don't worry about me so bad, my friend. I'll be out there shortly."

She held her breath until she heard her trusted friend sigh and walk away from the door. A wide, wicked smile crossed her face as she laid her head back down on the pillow whilst adding to her previous statement, "In a few minutes, of course."

The Breton couldn't help but add in a maniacal chuckle and she turned over on her side. She could feel a large lump sharing the bed with her, guessing it was more likely a pillow that strayed away from her head more than anything. She went to wrap her arms and legs around it to share warmth, when she felt it squirm and giggle in a high-pitched voice, "Heh heh, oh Listener!"

Her eyes opened up with surprise and immediately yanked off the blanket, revealing a grinning little Cicero that laid between her legs and arms. Carciniea let out a small yelp, jolting up. When she realized it wasn't a wild animal or rivaling assassin, she hunched over with relief and exclaimed, "Cicero! You scared me!"

He sat up opposite of her, cackling to himself. The sound of his laugh had always managed to help her relax, reminding her the dark days that plagued the Dark Brotherhood were now behind them. Even the darker thoughts that haunted Carciniea now seemed to have disappeared as well. It was another end to another era for them. She smiled in return, before a question came into her head. "Hold on, when did you come in here?" She asked, arching a brow.

The jester's eyes widened at this and even caused his snickering to come to a paused, "Cicero was tired and cold, you see! Cold and tired, tired and cold! And he noticed how the Listener had some extra room in her bed so he figured she wouldn't mind at all!"

She looked him in the eyes, narrowing her own as she contemplated this. Carciniea responded with, "That's not what happened, is it?"

Cicero's jaw dropped with disbelief, before closing it and began to pout. "Fine, you've caught Cicero red handed. Nazir sent Cicero to wake up the Listener, but he didn't want to! The Listener always looks so peaceful when she sleeps..."

"So I've heard," she laughed this off, giving up any remaining desire to sleep and fulfill Nazir's wish of leaving bed. She pushed herself onto her feet, almost toppling over from the sudden weight. She shook her head, stretching her arms. She took in a deep breath, turning to the Imperial on her bed, "Y'know, I have a good feeling about today."

Cicero made a face at her words, climbing off the Listener's bed as he followed her down the corridor and up the stairs, "You always say that, Listener!"

"No denying it today, my jester. It's in the air, it's in the ground! This might be our big break," she said with the upmost jubilance in her tone. She brushed her hair back with her fingers, maneuvering them to help but it up in a ponytail.

She had emerged out of the stairway to the upper section of the sanctuary, managing to catch of glimpse of Nazir reading one of the sanctuary's books on swordsmanship. By the time she came into mutual view, she noticed the plates were filthy and racked together.

"No breakfast?" She gasped, feeling her stomach beginning to rumble in anger.

 _"We did,"_ Nazir was clear to emphasize, giving her a look as sharp as a blade, "But to those who decide to wake up at noon, I'm afraid they'll have to wait until supper."

Despite the large appreciation Carciniea had for Nazir, who both bore responsibility as informant and mother figure among the Dark Brotherhood, there were moments where the two did not see eye to eye. Especially when it came to meals and tardiness.

She immediately regretted her earlier words of a bright day ahead, feeling particularly sour toward the Redguard whom went back to reading his book. She turned on the heels of her feet, back to where she previously approached from. She could see that Cicero had remained on the upper portion, tip toeing his way to the Night Mother's sarcophagus.

 _Cicero must have something stashed away... Maybe a carrot or even a sweetroll if I ask nice enough..._ Carciniea's eyes lit up with a spark of hunger, this time bearing it in a literal sense. She followed the little red man up the stairs, upon reaching the peak she had heard an old, raspy voice for the first time in several months:

_"Yet again have I been prayed to. Go to the Bannered Mare in Whiterun, you will once again cross paths with Amaund Motierre. Go and go alone. He has one more offer that the Dark Brotherhood cannot refuse."_

The train of thought had been interrupted by Cicero dancing merrily around his still Listener, unaware of what was occurring beyond him. She raised a hand to signal him to stop, to which he halted in place and nearly toppled over onto her. He managed to catch himself in time, fortunately.

"I need to go," Carciniea said loud enough for both Cicero and Nazir to here, a wicked smile curling on her face as she turned to the exit. She could here Cicero scamper behind her to which she turned around and quickly, yet softly interjected, "No, no. You stay here, Cicero. I have to go for a while- I think we finally have ourselves a contract!"

Cicero's sad features managed to soften slightly, though it was still clear as day on his face he didn't want her to leave. Admittedly, she didn't want to go either. It had been almost a year since she had last contacted Motierre and she was hoping for it to be the last. She took a deep breath, glancing toward the Black Door, "How about this: Next time I leave the sanctuary or take a trip, you can come with. Okay?"

This much managed to make Cicero smile, nodding, "Oh, yes! Cicero and the Listener on the hunt! Friends forever..."

She smiled back, giving him a small goodbye wave before leaving the Dawnstar sanctuary.


	2. Crossed Roads

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Jeebus, I want to apologize before hand about this chapter. Whether it's too long or too boring, I'm sorry, I just heard that you guys like to read longer chapters and all.

The Listener traveled out of Dawnstar, probably one of the coldest cities Carciniea had ever stayed in. She managed to get caught in a little sprinkle of snow, most of it gathering on her hair and shoulders while the rest collected on Shadowmere's dark mane.

Despite this sprinkle, it melted in comparison to her radiance and positivity. She chatted with the stallion as if she would expect a reply in return, when really the horse would only reply with a flare of its nostrils or a low neigh. She disregarded this silence, though, as she pressed on in their "conversation": "What do you think Motierre could want with us, now?" She asked her mount, "You'd think he'd realize that he had already stirred up enough trouble with us..."

The horse stopped in its tracks, the hairs on Carciniea's neck sat straight up from the sudden halt. The horse turned its head to give her a sharp, menacing look.

"Okay, okay," she quickly affirmed Shadowmere's request to drop the topic. "You know how I get, I'm very one-tracked..."

The horse shook its head, continuing the trek through the snowy forest and out of the Pale.

The snow began to thin further along, soon it was left behind in the thicket once they made it onto dry, cold grass. Carciniea was glad to visit the warmer regions of Skyrim, specifically the sight of Dragonsreach- The grand castle that laid in Whiterun.

It was disappointing that she couldn't stay longer, but she quickly assured herself that she had the rest of her life for sightseeing. Her mission was to get in, get out, then figure out the rest from there. Her stomach began to growl at her, demanding substance. _I heard you the first time, she growled back._

She dismounted the horse near the Whiterun stable, quietly promising it a treat upon her return before swiftly journeying into the city with the least bit of detection. She hadn't visited the city since her and Motierre last bade each other farewell. Some of the children she recognized had grown some, verging on to their adolescent years. A wonderful time of life, if she recalled right.

Everyone seemed more than busy in picking up the industry; whether it was selling ripe fruits or forging new armor, they didn't seem interested in greeting new faces. Carciniea simply walked on, watching as these citizens carried on with their normal lives.

Along the way to the local inn, Carciniea did spy a small bundle of apples being sold by a merchant just across the tavern. Despite her stomach telling her to grab an apple first, she was determined to hold off just a little longer as she went inside.

The tavern was busy as it has ever been, still noisy with the sound of lutes and citizens laughing and talking. She could easily recognize Motierre's personal bodyguard sitting just in front one of the guest rooms. They had made contact from the second she entered, probably already expecting her. She approached the room, glancing to him just before she entered the room. No doubt he was still on his toes about her. She couldn't blame him, though.

Carciniea took a breath, quickly bracing herself for the meeting. Motierre was inside, looking as handsome as ever. He didn't seem as nervous of her presence as he was when the two Bretons first met. He offered her a warm smile, waving his hand to a neighboring seat just across from him. He set down his tankard with his other hand, clearing his throat. "So we meet again," he greeted her.

"I heard you have business for us again." She gave him a nod of salutation in return. She saw his hand motioning her to sit in the seat right across from him, doing so.

He let out a soft grunt as me moved his seat slightly closer, sitting back and folding his hands on his lap, "You've heard right. I believe this may be more of a stretch than my last request, but who else to turn to in a time like this than the Dark Brotherhood?"

Carciniea smiled at this. She knew what he was playing at; stroking her ego, softening her up just before the blow. She had remembered this back in her days in Cyrodiil, as far back as before the Brotherhood. No matter, she was careful in easing herself through this maneuver. "You have my attention."

The two exchanged smiles. "Good. As you may remember, I wanted you to slay that incompetent man of an Emperor. In hopes that someone with more experience or knowledge would arise, like myself for instance, the council decided to pick someone worse- Worse than you could imagine."

"Is it really that bad?" She arched a brow at this. It was hard trying to discern whether he was exaggerating or actually being serious.

"Yes, unfortunately. They had chosen Titus Mede's daughter as the new ruler of Tamriel. I have nothing personally against her, but I would feel like a felon if I didn't do something about it. But believe me, I have no intentions of making this as much of a hassle as it was for our last agreement." He paused to lift up his tankard in thanks to her past services, taking a large swig before continuing, "In fact, I believe there is to be an arrangement where you could take both the soon-to-be Empress and her husband."

"Are they are to be visiting Skyrim?" She asked, leaning her head in with anticipation.

Motierre scoffed at this question, slamming his drink down, "Gods, no! After Titus Mede, I believe it will be a while before any royalty decides to visit Skyrim. No, but you'll be the one who will do the visiting."

"Excuse me?"

"In a few weeks, the royal couple will host an coronation ceremony in Cyrodiil. You will be the one to go there, slay the couple, then you and I will rendezvous in a neighboring city. There, you will receive your payment and then we will finally go our separate paths."

Carciniea hesitated once he finished his sentence, the last bit of his words sticking out in her head. One too many experiences she had shared where contracts backfire or something terribly goes wrong. Perhaps there will be another decoy? Maybe someone will be expecting her if she does go? She'll never know unless she finds out.

She finally nodded, her eyes no longer meeting his,"Okay... I think I got all that."

Motierre watched as she risen from her chair, bowing and taking her leave. He extended a hand forward, calling for her attention once more. She turned to him, one hand firmly gripping the door. He rested his hand back onto the arm of the chair, carefully picking out his next words: "This is not for just my benefit. Many people struggle with work now, some people cannot work at all. This goes farther than you and I."

She couldn't help but smirk at this, suppressing a chuckle to the best of her abilities, "Is that why you've come to a small group of assassins for help?" She finally let out a snort, breaking any bit of professionalism she once held. She shut the door behind her, shutting away any pending judgement and just took leave of the Bannered Mare. Not without attracting a few stares, of course.

By the time she left the tavern, even in the short time she spent inside, it had became noticeable that the sun had began lowering closer to the horizon. Nazir had more than likely already began preparing supper; the wonder of what he could be cooking made Carciniea's mouth salivate and her stomach roar.

Every step felt as if her stomach was walking on eggshells until a red little blob caught her attention once more out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head and was greeted with a small basket filled with apples.

 _I did promise Shadowmere a treat or two..._ She reminded herself, a devious smile rising. She snuck a couple apples as she walked by it, waiting until not a single person was around to witness her. She carried off the two bright red fruits in her hands, humming merrily to herself.

"And so the Dark Brotherhood is once again on the path to being restored," spoke a deadly, yet smooth voice. A voice she had not had the pleasantries of hearing for some time.

"I was wondering when you'd decide to show yourself," Carciniea replied in a nonchalant tone. She didn't even jump in surprise from his presence. If anything she had passed his surprise appearance off as nothing remarkable; which, for her sake, was unusual.

Lucien was certainly surprised at her reaction, slightly put off by it but nonetheless managed to shake it off. "I thought perhaps you needed space to adjust to finally becoming Listener," he walked beside her, hands behind his back. He added, "And acting as one as well."

Carciniea brushed off this blow, biting her tongue and refraining from continuing the topic. Instead, she quickly steered the conversation in a different direction, "So, what kind of impending doom am I heading into?"

She heard Lucien laugh at this, responding with, "You assume the worst, my Listener."

Carciniea rolled her eyes at this, finding herself begin to smile without effort until she pursed her lips into a frown. "Let me guess," she began to retort, "You're here to observe and nothing else." She actually let out a laugh, "You're becoming predictable, Luce."

"Perhaps. Though I must say, I was expecting a warmer welcome," he looked to her out of his peripheral vision.

She was, as expected, quiet after this remark. Nonetheless he still stayed by her side until they reached Shadowmere. By then Carciniea had both started and nearly finished her own individual apple, tossing it to the side in the dirt. She mounted the horse, looking down to him. "It was nice seeing you again," her tone had noticeably softened. Her expression still remained neutral, though now it was clear the indifference was only a cover.

He smirked at this, thinking how some things never change. "You sound as if you'll never see me again," he pointed out. She remained quiet for a moment, just staring down at him with melancholic eyes. "I may not," she finished, ending the conversation and kicking Shadowmere into a trot. She knew Lucien had returned to the Void, and for all she knew that was the last they'd see of one another.

 

~*~

 

"To Cyrodiil?" An astonished Nazir asked, his eyes raised high and his mouth dropped low.

Carciniea nodded, her mouth too full of cabbage soup to verbally respond. She had yet to take in the whole situation of the contract, but her mind and stomach were more focused on the tastes of spice, potatoes, and chopped cabbage. Babette looked with disgust from Nazir's cooking to the Redguard himself, "If he has business in Cyrodiil, then why not contact any of the others there?"

"There are no others! Everyone is gone, laid to waste! Except us, of course," Cicero piped up, his tone never recognizing the serious topic. He sounded as happy as he did with any topic, whether it was a dark joke about beheading a maiden or cooing over infant horkers. His bright red hair and matching hat poked around the upper level of the sanctuary.

Carciniea swallowed the last little bit of the soup she had, as well as the last of what Nazir had prepared, dropping her fork into her bowl. Now that she was satisfied, she was ready to get down to business again. "Cicero's right. But even if there were others Motierre could go to, don't you think that we could use the coin? A large portion of his payment went into reconstructing this sanctuary. Or did we all forget?" She looked to her colleagues, smirking.

Nazir sighed at this, crossing his arms with displeasure. "I'm just uneasy about this journey. So many things could happen to one of us and the others will have no way of knowing or able to assist. How do we know he's not planning an ambush? The Dark Brotherhood has enemies. Many enemies, at that. Whoever goes out, they need to be careful."

"And by whoever, we all mean me," she laughed, "Personally, I'd love to go back to Cyrodiil. It's home to me, plus I'm sure I know the routes better than any of us." The other two scoffed at this, the insulted look on Babette's face managing a snort out of the Listener. "But really, I volunteer myself," she continued once she calmed down from her giggling fit, "I'm a woman of action! As much as I love you two, I can't take being cooped up in here. It's maddening."

Babette hopped down from her seat, letting out a long yawn as she began to head out of the room. "I suppose I'll see if I can brew you any poisons. Something simple, but can get the job done," she went on, stopping herself at the doorway, "No need to thank me, Listener. It's my job."

Carciniea watched as the small vampire left, heading into the lower regions of the sanctuary. She heard Nazir's chair screech across the stone floor as he risen. She snapped her head in his direction, watching him take up the empty wooden bowls and plates. "When will you be leaving, my Listener?" He asked, his eyes never leaving the dirty dishes.

Carciniea hesitated the answer. She could wait a few days, but the coronation ceremony was in a few weeks. She wondered if she arrived in Cyrodiil early enough, she could use any left over time to pay a few visits. She could visit her hometown Kvatch, stay in Cheydinhal for a bit even. She could feel a bubbling feeling arise in her stomach at the thought of returning to her homeland. "I'll be leaving tomorrow, early in the morning," she informed her friend.

Nazir only nodded in reply. She could easily decipher the feelings she received from him as one of worry. She sympathized the Redguard, understanding the reason behind the worry. As he carried away the last of the cups and plates, she stood from her seat. "Nazir," she said gingerly, "I'll be fine."

She could hear him faintly chuckle, more fake than mocking, "We'll just see about that."


	3. Stow Away

The Listener awoke the next morning with a burst of energy. She had spent much of the night packing in anything she deemed necessary before passing out on her bed. But when she awoke she was determined to spend the remaining time she had with her friends. Of course, she tried to remind herself this wouldn't be the last time she would see them.

Nazir and was certainly surprised to see her up before noon, his eyes widening. "Well look who's up!" He remarked, Carciniea immediately smiling in return, "I didn't think I would be seeing you so soon. "

"What can I say, I'm going to miss you guys," she laughed, sitting across from him. She kicked her feet onto the table. It was nice to find different ways to surprise or shock Nazir or leave Babette speechless, as their faces do more of the talking than their words.

Once she had calmed down from her laughing fit, Nazir had set down his drink and leaned forward, "Are you still sure you want to go through with this? I'm sure if we send in a couple initiates-" "I'll be fine," she persisted, giving a dull roll of the eyes, "What about this is making you so paranoid? You're never like this!"

Nazir only chucked in response, shaking his head. He didn't seem to take much of her serious demeanor into this, only responding with, "I'm not sure what I'm expecting from this. With all due respect, you don't really understand the position of being a parent. Or may I say parent-like, in this matter." He glanced back to the Listener, noticing a strange glimmer in her eyes he had not seen before; he dismissed this and simply reasoned this to be due to the lighting.

Babette came down to join the two, probably returning from her hunt just before sun rise. She took her seat beside Carciniea, hopping onto the wooden chair and shifted to get herself comfortable. “So you’ll be leaving the province and onto new soil. How does that make you feel?” She asked, her mature words contrasting her young face and voice as usual.

Carciniea only shrugged, leaning herself against the table, “I’m not sure how to feel, really. Excited? Maybe. Maybe more if there was more to this, I suppose. You two seem like this is a brand new thing and, frankly, this just seem like child’s play. We killed an emperor; we should have nothing to worry of!” Her words only fell ill upon her colleagues, the two not bothering to exchange glances or anything of the like. Babette just looked up to her with the most unimpressed look she could possibly conjure whilst Nazir just quietly finished his drink. The room seemed to tense.

The Listener’s shoulder let a slump in defeat of this, thinking to herself that there must be no way to convince them otherwise. She stood from her seat, her eyes to the floor. Her arms extended and stretched wide, arching her back as she began to walk back down to her room to grab her things. She could hear Lucien being summoned from the Void, his footsteps following close to her own. Instead of making some sort of remark to the prior conversation she held with her friends as she expected, Lucien had decided to open up conversation in a different way: “I believe I have always liked this particular sanctuary. It is truly fit for the Void.”

Her eyes quickly darted around the training room as she passed through, making sure to herself the coast was clear for conversation for the two. “Better than Cheydinhal?” she asked him. She heard him hum to himself as he mentally debated this question, before answering, “No, no. I may have spent some of my time here, but Cheydinhal had always held some of my fondest memories.”

She laughed to herself, momentarily looking back to him and responding, “That’s funny. I never thought of you as a sentimental type of person.” She noticed Lucien begin to smile back, the sight of the ends of his mouth curling made her heart begin to pick up pace. Carciniea quickly turned back ahead, focusing back onto her destination. “So,” the Listener breathed, “I take it you’re here to tell me something? Unless you are also the social type, then you are just full of surprises today.”

“I am hurt, Carciniea,” she heard him smoothly reply, the two entering her room and closing her door, “I enjoy our talks, too. Contrary to popular belief, I have emotions as well as any other sentient being. I may not recognize others’, whether I choose to or not, but that doesn’t make my own any less real.”

She curtly nodded. Though she didn’t say much in return, it was evident she had so much to say. She always did, which he learned from experience. But she busied herself with actions such as rechecking her items that were crammed together in her bag. She paused abruptly, glancing up to the ceiling as she began to ask, “And whose feelings do you choose not to recognize? I have a feeling that my name is somewhere on that particular list.”

She curtly nodded. Though she didn’t say much in return, it was evident she had so much to say. She always did, which he learned from experience. But she busied herself with actions such as rechecking her items that were crammed together in her bag. She paused abruptly, glancing up to the ceiling as she began to ask, “And whose feelings do you choose not to recognize? I have a feeling that my name is somewhere on that particular list.”

“You have no faith in my loyalty, Listener,” he shook his head, stepping to her side. He watched as she shifted through her things, before closing it once and for all. “Are you prepared yet? The earlier you arrive to Cyrodiil, the sooner you can finish this contract.” She sighed and nodded, her grip tightened around her bag. “I guess I’m so used to being cooped up here, I’m nervous in leaving,” she admitted.

Lucien was quiet for a moment, watching as her eyebrows scrunched and arched. He picked up and laid a ghostly hand on her shoulder. She finally looked over to him, their eyes meeting. “I’ll be there for yo-" “/Listener!/” shrieked a voice. Out from under her blankets sprang up Cicero, whom had probably hidden himself since she first left her room.

Carciniea’s eyebrows had hit the roof and her mouth the floor, wondering how long the jester had been listening. He kicked off the blankets and scooched closer to the end of the bed. He had a large smile on his face, his feet hanging off the bed and looked ready to start dancing. “Cicero! When did you-" "Oh Listener, it all makes sense now! You kept Cicero in the dark, kept poor Cicero guessing! But Cicero understands now!" He leaned forward, his voice now but an excited whisper, "The two of us- together- in Cyrodiil."

It took her a moment to register and understand what he was talking about. When it finally hit her, she gave him a sad smile, "Cicero, I don't think you understand. I have to go... Alone."

Cicero's face fell, his shoulders drooped at the news. He closed his mouth and remained silent for a moment, as if waiting for her to change her mind. "You promised," he reminded her of the day before, how she assured him the next time she would leave she would allow him to tag along.

"I did, didn't I?" She whispered, cursing herself in her mind. She had already broken one promise to him, the thought of leaving him behind made her heart cringe. She glanced over to Lucien who looked sternly to Cicero with his arms crossed. She looked back to her little jester, sighing, "Fine, I suppose. The only problem is Shadowmere and how we're going to fit on him with our stuff- _Without_ breaking any legs."

Cicero had leapt onto her, letting out a screech of joy as he clutched onto his Listener. Carciniea grunted from the sudden weight thrusted onto her, patting his head. "There, there little one," she began to smile.

Cicero sprinted up, laughing and dancing off to probably pack his stuff. The Listener struggled to sit up, noticing that Lucien had already returned to the Void. _Classic Luce_ she told herself, not at all surprised to see she was once again alone. _If Cicero is really going to tag along, I might as well let the others know. I know they'll be relieved._

She grabbed her small bag, despite its size it still held some weight to it. She slung it over her shoulder, walking out of her room into the upper part of the sanctuary. She saw Nazir and Babette, never acknowledging her presence until she spoke up. "I suppose I'll be leaving now," she said.

Nazir looked over his shoulder, putting down his book and turned to her. "I see. Good luck to you, Listener. Be sure to come back with lots of gold," he simply told her.

"If she comes back," Babette added. Her voice echoed from upstairs, probably brushing up on her alchemy.

Carciniea rolled her eyes at this, ignoring any discouragement thrown her way. She pressed on, "Cicero will be coming with me. I thought maybe the two of you will be able to get more done without any distractions."

She watched as Nazir resumed his reading; she began to walk away, turning her head back to him. She pressed on, however, as once Babette came into her line of sight, she only gave the vampire a smirk as a farewell.

She exited the sanctuary, hopefully for not the last time. She was happy to see Cicero already ready and petting Shadowmere. "You don't need anything?" She asked him, noticing his lack of baggage.

Cicero turned his head toward, looking absolutely jubilant to have the chance to journey with his Listener. He pushed himself onto his feet, standing up. Carciniea mentally prepared herself for the trip as she climbed onto Shadowmere, helping the Imperial on as well. She was almost certain it had been a long time since he had ridden a horse.

The Listener could hear him giggle to himself, whispering, "Oh yes, Cicero and Listener, hehe, on the hunt! Hehe!"


End file.
